


Shot Through the Heart

by nevercanreadenough



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Feels, But abstractly, Draco Malfoy Being an Idiot, Friends to Enemies, Harry Needs a Hug, I don't want to give too much away, M/M, Tagging is exhausting people, Voldemort Dies, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 19:00:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17065322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevercanreadenough/pseuds/nevercanreadenough
Summary: The very first time Harry sees his soulmate’s first words to him, he dies a little inside. He's always hoped, dreamed, imagined that the person magic choose for him would love him beyond his title and fame. The words on the left side of his abdomen, however, make it very clear that not only will Harry never be enough for them, but that they also hate him.





	Shot Through the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> So a litte disclaimer first: Voldemort is dead, he died when Harry was a baby so Snape has no reason (other than personal hatred) to be a dick to Harry. So I took that and decided he would just ignore Harry and treat him the same as all the others because Harry doesn't have some great big 'Voldemort may return' future going on. 
> 
> I hate all the stories where Harry and Draco are soulmates and Draco's an ass and Harry just goes with it because, hey, soulmates and all. So this is what I did instead.
> 
> Also, this may or may not (totally is) the first thing I've ever written and shown people and I may or may not be more than a little terrified. So. There's that.

The very first time Harry sees his soulmate’s first words to him, he dies a little inside. He's always hoped, dreamed, imagined that the person magic choose for him would love him beyond his title and fame. The words on the left side of his abdomen, however, make it very clear that not only will Harry never be enough for them, but that they also hate him. His soulmate hates him. Rejects him. On their first meeting. The knowledge that even in the wizarding world Harry is a freak is almost enough to break him, and it hits him hard enough that he spends a good hour in the bathroom that morning, crying and wondering if he can drown himself in the shower.

Soulmate words usually show up anywhere between fourteen and twenty years old, no rhyme or reason to when they appear. If they don't appear at all, it usually means your soulmate is dead. They have special agencies for people without soul words, letting them decide for themselves who they want to spend the rest of their lives with, if anybody at all. A fair few usually spend their lives having casual encounters and working towards furthering their knowledge and power in their chosen fields. Harry was so relieved he wasn't one of these people, but it didn't take too long before he wished he was. What was the point of having a soulmate if they reviled you?

The words appeared a month before the end of fifth year, right before his O.W.L. examinations so he didn't have a lot of time to drown in his misery, not that he didn't give it a valiant effort. He also didn't want any of his friends to know. Hermione would give him a look of pity and tell him it was just a first meeting and he had no idea what had gone on before that. Ron would swat his back in a friendly gesture and shrug while telling him that it wasn't likely his fault. Luna would smile serenely and tell him some nonsense that would only make sense weeks later. Draco and Neville would exchange looks before telling him they'd beat up anybody who dared hurt him. All of that was nice and heart-warming, but it didn't help him. His soul mate would still hate him.

It was three days after the soul words appeared that he walked over to Draco, who was holding court with Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson. He didn't like them much, but Draco was a Slytherin and above that a Malfoy, so he had to network and keep up appearances, even if he didn't agree with someone or downright hated them.

He saw Parkinson sneer at him, saw Goyle nudge Crabbe in the ribs before saying something to Draco that had Parkinson’s sneer turn into a malicious smile as Draco turned to face him. Before he could even utter a word, before the smile of welcome and happiness on Harry's face could do anything more than appear on his face as he looked at his best friend, Draco eyed him up and down like he was a disgusting bug he didn't want to get too close to.

“What was it that you were saying again, Draco?” Parkinson prompted Draco.

“Who would ever want you for their soulmate?” Draco sneered at Harry, and Harry's heart stopped. “I think I would have to kill myself if I ever found out I was the soulmate of a freak.”

Harry's smile, the one that usually reached his eyes when he saw Draco, died a slow death. Draco's words, Draco’s small speech of hatred, were inked on his body. He trembled, not knowing what exactly was happening, but knowing it was somehow a turning point for both of them. He didn't know if Draco had already received his words, they hadn't had the chance to speak in the last three days, so if he said anything now he could alert Dra...Malfoy to the fact that he was actually Harry's soul mate. His heart was torn, his mind in turmoil, and his body in shock.

Harry and Draco had a rough start, that first meeting on the train would ruin everything for them until their first shared detention. They had somehow gotten lost in the Forbidden Forest and since Fang was no help (and a coward, he ran off at the first call of a night owl), they had to work together to find their way back to the castle. They had started out snipping at each other, growing more and more agitated until, somehow, they came out the forest laughing at jokes and pranks to play on their respective friends. It had started out slowly, both still too cautious about their new friendship to try anything overt, but it helped them grow closer. By the end of second year, Draco was Harry's best friend. By fifth year, Harry had spent a good majority of two summers with Draco and his family. He couldn't imagine ever not having Draco in his life. He was slowly accepted by the Slytherins, had made friends on his own merit with Blaise, Daphne, Tracey, and Theo. Had even managed to somewhat heal the rift in the houses that Voldemort had created during his reign of terror. And in one glorious moment it all fell down around him.

Draco hated him. Five years of friendship, a lie? Growing up with the Dursley’s had made him wary of people in general. Finding out he had a godfather in the wizarding world who had not only put him there but hadn't cared enough to even check up on him had hardened him. He had thought he knew enough about people to see through their lies. Had Draco been that good of an actor?

Harry looked around at his audience, Blaise, Daphne, Theo, Tracy, Hermione, Justin, Padma, almost all of his friends, watching him, watching Draco speak words that would cut even the strongest of men to their bones: that you were unwanted by your soulmate. And he was. Because, without anyone else knowing it, he knew the truth. So he simply looked at Draco, his eyes no longer smiling, his face no longer welcome, and nodded. Then he turned and walked away, Draco and his gang laughing at his retreat.

It was the start of Harry's personal hell.

After their exams were over, after most of the gossip had spread and died down a little, Blaise, Theo, and Daphne had cornered him. Asked him to walk with them and talk to them. Let them talk to him. He didn't want to lose all of his friends and despite them being close to Draco (who now taunted him every chance he got), he still wanted them in his life. They decided to take a walk outside, it being close enough to summer that the days had grown warmer and it was now pleasant to be outside. They reached the top of the stairs on the last floor before reaching the entrance hall, when out stepped Draco, Goyle, Crabbe, and Parkinson. Harry furrowed his brow and turned to the ones he still considered his friends, and his heart broke a little more when he saw they had take a step away from him and were all smirking softly his way. A trap. It was a trap and he had walked right into it.

He didn't know how it happened, how quickly it had all escalated, but one moment he was trying his best not to speak, and the next he was crashing down stone steps before it all went black.

Someone told him later that Tracey had passed by the moment he had fallen and had raced to the hospital wing. He was lucky, they had told him, a few more moments and he could have died. He wondered, in the darkest of moments, whether or not that would have been more preferable to the alternative. He had stayed in the hospital wing for the rest of his time at Hogwarts, only being allowed to leave the night before they left. Draco never came once.

It was on the train when he was cornered by Blaise and Theo, Daphne a shadow behind them, begging him for forgiveness and understanding. Telling him they had no idea he would go that far, that it wasn't the point.

“So what was the point? To put me in my place?”

“He just wanted to prove to you-” Blaise started

“That I mean nothing? Harry interrupted. “That it was all a lie and you Slytherin’s got one over on the gullible Gryffindor? Got that message, thanks.”

“Harry, it's not like that-” Daphne tried.

“Potter.” He interrupted again, his heart already closed to them.

“What?” She asked, a little bewildered.

“It's Potter now, to you. Harry is for friends and you've made it very clear where you stand.”

Three sets of eyes grew large and alarmed. He was a Gryffindor. Gryffindor’s were brash and bold, headstrong and had a temper that fizzled out eventually, but overall a forgiving lot. This wasn't a Gryffindor move. They had expected that an apology and explanation would be enough. Maybe a few gifts to show their remorse, but denying the use of his given name? It made them nervous. What had they allowed to happen?

“Look, we know it was a stupid thing to do, but Slytherin works differently than the other houses. We have to stand together!” Theo implored, panic at the edge of his voice.

“I was in the hospital wing for two and a half weeks. Does the Slytherin hierarchy deny you visiting hours?” Harry refused to budge. What they had done was unforgivable. They broke his trust and he didn’t want to be friends with people he couldn’t trust. How long until they did it again?

Three sets of eyes turned away in shame. He nodded his head.

“Like I said, you've made your point very clear. Malfoy drew his line in the sand. Now it's my turn. Try your best to never speak to me again, and under no circumstances seek me out.”

Harry turned and walked away, leaving three Slytherins feeling like they had lost something important, vital, but having no idea what it was.

*****

That summer was one of Harry's hardest. When Harry had first found out about his godfather and looked him up, he had sent the man an owl, hoping for a reply or at the very least an explanation as to why Harry wasn’t living with him. Why he had been dumped with the Dursley’s. The reply he had gotten was less than satisfactory. It seemed more like an automated response to fan mail than an actual reply. Harry didn’t even bother with the man he had hoped would help him after that.

Sirius Black saw him maybe once a year, never on his birthday and always for less than twenty minutes depending on how the man was feeling on the day itself. This year he spent a month and a half at the Dursley’s before he received an owl to stay with his godfather. Not wanting to stay a moment longer with the Dursley’s (and they were getting more and more grumpy everyday he spent with them instead of going off to the Malfoy’s like he usually did), he agreed and left the same day.

It became clear all too soon that Sirius wanted him around for his name. He may have defeated Voldemort as a baby, may have been loved by the public, but he was a stepping stone for Sirius Black. He was dragged from event to event, party to party, shaking hand after hand while giving everyone his practiced fake smile. Sirius made sure to tell everyone that he was the godfather of Boy-Who-Lived, seemingly hoping for some kind of credit for the man Harry was becoming. Harry lasted a long four days before he owled Hermione desperately seeking an escape. After he got her positive reply, he packed everything up again, and was gone the next day. He received a howler from Sirius two days later telling him he was a selfish immature child and that Sirius was disappointed in him. Harry never replied.

The remaining time he had left of the summer holidays he spent with Hermione and her family, easily fitting in and finding that it was a balm on his broken heart. It was that summer that he finally told Hermione the truth. They had spent the day yelling and screaming at each other, crying heart wrenching tears of grief and loss, spent hours in pure silence. It wasn’t much, but it helped.

By the time sixth year started, Harry had grown back the shields he had lost when he had made friends with Malfoy. The weeks passed slowly and Malfoy became his number one tormentor, Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson not far behind him.

And still he didn't say a word to Malfoy.

Sometimes he wondered why not, when he was filled with bruises, broken glasses, broken bones. He could say the worst of the worst, knowing that those would be the words on Malfoy's body. Have him stare at them for hours on end, knowing you were never good enough for the one person that was meant for you. Some days it was harder to not give in to the urge, but in the end he didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing. Knowledge was power, after all.

Once it became clear that the incident at the end of last year wasn't a one time thing, the school slowly started to divide. Most had already been skeptical of the friendship between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, but they had all grudgingly accepted it. Now that Malfoy had suddenly turned on Harry, people started to choose sides. Most of Hufflepuff sided with him because he had always helped them when they needed it, and half of Ravenclaw was on his side because they were convinced that what Malfoy had done was proof of his evil ways. Beggars can’t be choosers, he figured. Gryffindor and Slytherin were no longer able to be in the same space for longer than ten minutes unsupervised before a fight would break out.

The teachers had no idea what was happening, catching on far slower than the student body would have thought possible, but once they did figure it out, they tried to stay out of it unless it was something they saw with their own two eyes. To them, it was like the phases of the moon: it would blow over soon enough.

Blaise, Theo, Daphne, and Tracey had sent him birthday presents that summer, still convinced that they could fix what they had broken. He sent them back unopened with no acknowledgement that they even reached him. When they saw him after the welcoming feast, they cornered him and tried getting him to talk to them, let them make it up to him. He stared right through them, told them plainly that he couldn’t live his life waiting for them to betray him again. They knowingly led him into danger. Despite not knowing the specifics, they knew that what Malfoy and his goons had planned was probably going to end in blood. When they couldn’t defend themselves, Harry told them to stop seeking him out, it was over and they were over. He didn’t glance at them again. It was this act that had finally gotten through the four friends and made them give Malfoy and the Slytherin’s a hard look. Yes, it was their house and loyalty to the Slytherin’s had been important before Harry and Draco had been friends, but after it hadn't mattered all that much. Seeing now the changes that the school had gone through because of one friendship, first formed and then broken, had made them regret far more than their part in hurting Harry. They had lost his trust, lost his loyalty. To Blaise and Theo, who had been fairly close to Harry, it felt like they were missing something important in their lives.

What startled the majority of the student population were the changes in Harry. Before the break with Dra-Malfoy, Harry had a quick smile, easy laughter, and liked to be touched. After, he hardly ever smiled, never laughed, and shied away from big groups. His eyes were bleak and his face was more often than not blank, and it worried the people who knew him best. Worried most people. Didn't worry Malfoy. The more withdrawn Harry seemed to become, the deeper he pushed and more vicious he became, his helpful goons always around with spells to trip and hurt. Harry now had help from his house and the few from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, but there were still several jinxes and curses that hit their marks. Already adept at dodging Dudley and his gang, it wasn't much effort for Harry to start to use the same tactics here.

And still he didn't say a word to Malfoy.

Until two months before the exams. Two and a half months before the start of summer. Malfoy had slowly started to burn in anger; Harry had seen it in his eyes, the desperation to make a direct hit, building slowly until he couldn't get away from it anymore. Harry was in the bathroom, washing his hands when he felt a spell wash over him. He looked over and frowned at a triumphant Malfoy, standing alone and facing him, wand out. Harry dodged the first spell, the second and the third. Pulled out his own wand when he realized that Malfoy was using dark spells, spells to cause damage, spells to injure. He had a moment of hesitation as Malfoy screamed "sectumsempra" where he could have jumped out the way, but didn't. He let the spell hit. Let it rip into him, blood spraying out, his body heavy and breathing difficult. He was choking on his blood. He was so tired. Tired of the beatings, berating, mistreatment at the Dursley’s. Tired of knowing the one person who your parents choose to love and care for you didn't give a damn. Tired of knowing his soulmate was actively trying to kill him.

He vaguely heard the bathroom door being blasted open, someone screaming for a professor to help. He stared into grey eyes and finally uttered his words.

“Congratulations, Dragon, you win.” Watched with a perverse kind of pleasure when those grey eyes lost some of their colour, when a pale face turned white, then green, then white again. He coughed up blood and smiled as he died.

******

To his immense displeasure, he woke up. It took five days before he was allowed to sit up, seven until he was allowed visitors. Dumbledore came by first, explaining that Malfoy was ever so sorry; he had no idea what the spell would do. He was in detention for the rest of the year and his parents would be made aware. Harry nodded dutifully but said nothing. Professor Snape came in and stared at him for the five most awkward minutes of his life. He left without saying a word and made Harry wonder if he had dreamt the whole thing. Blaise, Theo, Daphne, and Tracy had tried to see him, but Madam Pomfrey refused them entrance. She asked Harry later, but knew of the divide and was a little suspicious of the four Slytherins. Harry thanked her and it seemed enough of a confirmation for her to continue to keep them out.

Luna, Ron, Neville, Dean, Seamus, and most of his other friends came by in groups. All of them explaining how Malfoy had gotten off with a slap on the wrist, how the house rivalry was now at its highest. How Slytherin's had fallen from somewhat antagonistic to outright enemy. Harry never said a word.

Hermione came as often as she could, hardly ever saying anything and simply curling up with him in his bed, holding each other close. It was the first time he cried, the first time he confessed he wished he hadn't woken up, the first time he broke down. Eventually they had to give him a calming draught, but Hermione never left him that night.

Malfoy came every day. Harry never let him in.

Hermione had owled her parents and had made plans for Harry to stay with her that last summer. Harry accepted and since he was still nursing his injuries, they were allowed to portkey out a few days earlier after they had finished their exams. It had taken those two days before anybody really realized that both Harry and Hermione had left (aside from their friends, who already knew) and suddenly the Granger household was overrun with owls. Most of them from people who wished him well, a couple from Slytherin’s who wanted to do him harm, and more than a handful from Malfoy. The first he threw away, the second he burned, the third Hermione opened and read. She gave him a long look once she was finished and then burned the letter. He raised an eyebrow at her and she shook her head.

“What he said, it's not ever going to be enough.” She told him, sadness lingering in her eyes.

He gave her a small smile and nodded his head. It was a hard truth that Malfoy still had to figure out.

Harry and the Grangers left as soon as Harry was medically cleared, traveling around Europe for the rest of the summer. The last few weeks they spent in Bulgaria, Hermione meeting her soulmate, Viktor Krum. Despite being an international Quidditch player, he was still quite smart, Hermione told him one night at dinner. Harry laughed at her and her eyes lightened and her heart sang. It was the first time in almost two years he had laughed a proper laugh, a real laugh.

When they came back, they were met with a pile of letters, most from Malfoy and two from his parents. Frowning, he threw out all of Malfoy's but opened the ones his parents sent him. Almost immediately he snorted at the one Mr. Malfoy had written and didn't bother finishing the letter before handing it over to Hermione. Mrs. Malfoy's letter was about the same as her husbands, just in softer tones and more subtle manipulations. ‘Draco made a mistake, he had no idea you were his soulmate, put the past behind you and do the right thing, for both your sakes.’

Harry and Hermione each had a beer while watching the letters burn to ashes.

It never ceased to amaze him how people he genuinely thought of as family (if not that, then people he viewed as trustworthy adults) could suddenly turn on you. Looking back at their friendship, Harry understood the pull he felt towards Draco, how light he felt when Lucius and Narcissa had opened their arms and hearts to him. He had no idea what had changed, how three days could change his entire world, but it had. Draco was his best friend, Malfoy was his tormentor. Draco was his confidant; Malfoy used that information to hurt him. Not once over the past two years of knowing Malfoy had his parents ever expressed their worry over him, but now that they knew who he was to their son, then he suddenly mattered. It was just too bad that Harry knew better now. He had learned more. Nothing was free.

Seventh year was...interesting. The houses were still divided, Slytherin's name still in the mud, but Malfoy had stopped bullying him. That wasn't to say Parkinson, Goyle, and Crabbe had stopped, just that Malfoy didn't join them. In fact, the times that Harry did see Malfoy, the boy looked terrible. There were dark circles under his eyes, his clothing slightly off, and his hair was a tousled mess. Throughout the year Malfoy would try his best to get near Harry, try to talk to him, try to explain, but Harry was never in his presence for longer than thirty seconds before a non-Slytherin found them and took Harry away. It also helped that he had the marauders map and he could avoid him most of the time. Malfoy had drawn a line in the sand and the school had formed battle lines across from him.

Malfoy tried to get near him the rest of the year. He stopped temporarily to take his N.E.W.T.S. like all the seventh years did, but Harry never spoke to him. Besides the fact that Harry was convinced it was all an act, Malfoy never stopped his gang from going after Harry, even when he saw them do it. It made it clear to Harry that Malfoy couldn't care less, so Harry refused to budge. After they finished school, after their last train ride, the Malfoy's managed to corner Harry before Hermione could drag him off with her parents. The three of them looked somber, looked troubled, but Harry knew better, had been taught better. Masks were useful and this was just another manipulation.

“Harry, dear, Draco tells us you still haven't spoken to him.” Narcissa said, reaching over to brush his hair back as she used to do when he was friends with Draco. Harry flinched back from the touch before she made contact. All three of them froze, a far too slowly dawning realization that pretty words and surface gestures weren’t going to cut it this time.

“I have nothing to say. To any of you.” Harry told them, shrugging but eyeing them closely for threats. Malfoy looked away in shame. He was a great actor, Harry thought to himself.

“It is simply not done! You are my son's soulmate! Soulmates belong together!” Lucius sneered at him, as if he was a recalcitrant child who refused to do something just for the sake of it.

Harry eyed him blankly before pulling up his shirt on the left side and moving until all three of them could read the words. Narcissa choked and rested a shaking hand on her throat. Lucius froze but otherwise did nothing. Malfoy paled. They all knew soul words were on your skin, all knew you spent years with those words until they changed to the words that mattered most to you. What they hadn't considered was that Harry had to read those words over and over and over again. Words of hurt, words of pain, words of torment.

“I know exactly what it means to have a Malfoy for a soulmate”. Harry told them softly, pushing the shirt up further to show them the scars on his body from the spell that Madam Pomfrey was still unable to heal fully.

Tears were slowly falling down Malfoy's face, his eyes angled away. The two other Malfoy's seemed lost for words so Harry took the opportunity to get away from them. He met up with the Grangers and never looked back.

*****

At first Harry and Hermione had chosen to take the year off and travel, but it soon became clear that what Hermione really wanted to do was travel to her Bulgarian soulmate. Harry had laughed at her blushing face, gave her a long hug, and sent her off. He took his time traveling, meeting a variety of witches and wizards, learning new and different kinds of magic, discovered lust and love. He grew, he learned, he hurt, and he laughed while having adventures he never dreamed of in a cupboard under the stairs. He never once thought of Malfoy.

In the end, he spent three years abroad, became a Wardmaster and Spellbinder, one of the best in the business. The first time in three years he would go back to England was for Hermione's wedding. They would have a traditional Bulgarian wedding the next week, but this week was a traditional English wedding. Harry had brought his boyfriend, Sam, as his date.

In a rather weird twist of fate, Sam turned out to be distantly related to the Malfoy’s (the son of a woman who had an aunt who had married a Malfoy at least a decade ago) and decided that he would drop in on them. Sam had told Harry he had family in England he wouldn't mind seeing, they had a son who was having a hard time and he wanted to lift the man's spirits while he was here. Harry had smiled and told him “of course you should go”, never once imagining who that family exactly was. With a slip of the tongue, Sam had exposed Harry's re-entry into the British wizarding world. Within an hour, they knew everything about Sam and Harry's five month relationship. Within two, they knew where he had spent the last three years and what his life looked like now. Within three hours they had told Sam that Malfoy was his soulmate and he should break up with Harry.

Arriving back at Hermione's flat, Sam had confronted Harry about his soulmate, Hermione looking on in worry and amused confusion. As she pointed out, he had the soulmate tattoo; he couldn't get mad at him when the evidence was there to see. Once it came out exactly where he had just come from to incite this tirade, Harry turned pale and Hermione started to grill him, making him tell them everything that had happened. It didn't surprise either of them when Sam broke it off with Harry and left the first chance he got.

“What a fucking mess”. Hermione grumbled, falling back into the couch. Harry handed her a bottle of wine before plopping down next to her with his own bottle. “I know he's your soulmate and everything, but does he constantly have to fuck up your life like this?” She asked, put out. She had been thrilled to see her best friend happy, smiles that finally touched his eyes again. Harry snorted. “He's not in my life. No offense, ‘Mione, but the minute your wedding is over, I'm out of here.”

Hermione took a large gulp of wine with Harry, burped and then chinked her bottle with his. “Too right.” She sighed deeply. “I know you're coming to the Bulgarian wedding too, so I really don't mind if you skip out on this one.”

He smiled softly at her, grabbed her hand in his and squeezed. “I know. I want to stay, though.”

“Not for him?” He gave her a look and she rolled her eyes. “I know your history, I know what he did to you, but that doesn't mean you're not curious at what's become of him. I think I'd want to know.”

Harry took a deep breath. “Hermione. There's a lot about my life you don't know. The Dursley's, Sirius. By the time Malfoy stabbed me in the back...well, I had to go to a mind healer to sort it all out. I have no desire to slip back into the person I used to be.”

Hermione nodded. “Ok, Harry. Want to play some video games and get drunk?”

Harry laughed loudly. “Since when do you play video games? Since when do you even know about them?”

Hermione blushed red and looked away before a mumbled “Viktor loves them” was heard. They laughed for a while longer, drank a while longer than that, and played until night turned to dawn.

******

The wedding two days later was beautiful. Harry wondered if she could look even more beautiful in the next ceremony and watched how unbelievably connected Viktor and Hermione seemed to be as they danced across the floor. A sound next to him had him turn his head, only to turn fully in the next second as shock filtered through his body. Malfoy.

“You shouldn't be here.” He told him, frowning in a way that conveyed confusion, not anger.

“I needed to see you.” While his clothing looked the part of the Malfoy name, his voice was scratchy from disuse, the dark circles he remembered from their final year at Hogwarts had turned purple, his eyes had lost their shine, and his hair was unwashed and greasy looking. His only saving grace was that he had tied it up, but Harry could see the signs. Malfoy looked him over, drinking in the sight in front of him. Harry let him, the faster this ordeal would be over with.

“You came back.” Malfoy almost whispered.

“I leave in two days.” Harry replied shortly. He watched Malfoy's face fall and couldn't care less. “Why did you even bother to come?” Curiosity killed the cat, after all.

“You're my soulmate.” Malfoy said simply. Satisfaction didn’t bring it back.

“A soulmate you tried to kill twice.”

“I didn't know that then.”

Harry nodded. “No, then I was your best friend who didn't get the notice that he was suddenly your worst enemy. Like that makes it all better.”

A tear slipped out of Malfoy's eye. “You know why I had to.”

Harry snorted. “You didn't have to do anything. And no, I don't know. I never once read any of your letters. Threw most of them out, burnt the others.”

Malfoy flinched. “You...never...not once?”

“Would it have made up for you trying to kill me twice?” Harry asked, genuinely curious.

“No.” Malfoy shook his head. “No, I suppose it wouldn't. Can I explain now?”

“Would it make your actions any better now?” Harry returned.

Malfoy grit his teeth, then sighed. “Probably not, no. It doesn't put me in a better light, but it does explain why I had to.”

Harry snorted. “‘Had to’ is subjective. Five years of friendship and you just threw it away. If I mattered that little to you as your best friend, why should I think I would matter more as your soulmate? You made your choice then, Malfoy, this is mine. We live separate lives, live in separate countries. We have different opinions about everything, and frankly, I don't really want to be around you.” Harry told him truthfully. A hard truth that Malfoy still hadn't understood all these years later: words were never going to be enough. “Even after you knew the truth, you still let your little gang bully and harass me. What kind of a soulmate are you? What kind of _person_ are you?”

The tear was back, but this time it was joined by others. “You have no idea how much of that I regret, Harry, how much time we lost because of my stupidity, because of my father's business deals. But I don't want to lose any more time with you, I want to earn your forgiveness, earn back your trust. All I need is the knowledge that you'd let me.” Malfoy begged, but Harry still knew better.

“Pretty words.” He said, grabbing a butterbeer from a passing tray. “Those five years of friendship?” Malfoy nodded, a frown on his face. “Those were pretty words too. I know the truth now; I know who you really are. All pretty words and nice smiles but the minute I become an inconvenience, I'm suddenly on your hit list. That face, the Malfoy face, that was you. So no,” Harry said shaking his head, “I don't want to give the man who tried to murder me another chance to do it again. The only reason you regret your actions in any way is because I’m your soulmate. If I still happened to be your ex-best friend you wouldn’t have even come today. Leave. Don't come back. Find something pretty to play with and be glad for it. If the gods are on my side, I'll never have to see you again.” Harry told him, harsh words to make Malfoy understand exactly what he had done. And for Harry, it was the truth. Even if Malfoy hadn't turned out to be his soulmate, his transformation from Draco to Malfoy was something Harry could and would never forgive. He had lost a piece of himself inside Draco that he had never gotten back and even now, years later, it still burned. He turned and walked away, leaving Malfoy broken and alone.

******

Two days later he left. He made the stop in Bulgaria for Hermione's second ceremony and then traveled on to Brazil where the next job was waiting for him. Surprisingly, Malfoy was there waiting for him too. Firm face, stubborn set to his jaw.

“You were right.” He tells Harry. “There's no reason you should ever pick me. I'm possibly the worst choice you'll ever make. So I'm going to convince you that your worst mistake could be the best one you ever make.” At Harry's confused look, he elaborated. “I'm not letting you slip out of my life again, I'm going to work for your forgiveness, prove that those five years weren't pretty words, that the mask was the murderer. I don't care how long it takes; I'm going to prove it.”

Harry sighed loudly, rubbing his hand over his eyes and shook his head. “Find a hobby, Malfoy.”

“You're my hobby, Harry.” Harry left without another word.

 

True to his word, Malfoy popped up where ever he was, talked to him, helped him sometimes while he was working, but generally made a nuisance of himself. Mostly Harry pretended the man didn't exist, but even when you try to ignore someone, you still hear them. So he heard how after Harry left Malfoy and his parents at the station, he fell into a dark pit of depression that he had been slowly crawling out of when Harry came back. Not that he wasn't still depressed, but he had a goal now, and he was working on it. His father was riddled with guilt about his part in the whole saga. Apparently, he had been in the middle of making some sort of deal with another ex-Death Eater business partner when said Death Eater heard from his kid how Draco and Harry were almost inseparable. Not wanting to lose the business deal (and save face) he ordered Draco to cast Harry aside or he would cast Draco out of the family. So Draco did.

Harry had to listen to Malfoy telling him how it had killed him to turn around and see that blinding smile, the smile he always wore just for him, drift into non-existence. As time went on, he just wanted a reaction. He admitted that the stair incident was an accident; he hadn't realized how close to the edge Harry had gotten. The second time was a desire to have Harry out of his life for good. Too many memories, too much guilt, too much pain, all wrapped up in one boy. When Harry had said his words to him...Malfoy twisted everything up just to make sure he could still be near Harry. Told them how their animosity had grown, how they had fought, how they found out they were soulmates, how the spell got out of control.

Harry didn't want to know any of this. Didn't acknowledge Malfoy whenever he spoke of the past. He just wanted to move on with his life. ‘Soulmate’ may have meant the best person for you, but it never meant that you had to do anything with them. Harry had simply chosen another path.

Only, Malfoy never left. He ate where Harry ate, slept where Harry slept, worked where Harry worked. Slowly, Harry saw that Malfoy gained more weight, lost the dull look in his eyes, the purple around his eyes fading a little day by day. Knew, mostly because Malfoy told him, that he had started an apprenticeship in Cursebreaking. Partly because he actually enjoyed it and partly because Cursebreakers worked closely with Wardmasters. Harry only sighed.

It took a year of being in Malfoy's vicinity and unending chatter and poking and prodding before he broke. It had been a particularly hard day; they were in the Amazon looking for a lost relic on assignment for the goblins. Harry had broken through ward after ward, caught spells that could have killed, and was tired enough at the end of it all to miss one and had gotten hit by a cutting hex. Thankfully it was a low powered hex (nothing lasts long when time is involved) and he was patched up quickly. Unfortunately, his temper had risen to a peak and when Malfoy had begun talking again about their Hogwarts days and how sorry he was, Harry broke. He screamed at him, yelled at him, punched him in the face and then pulled him close to yell at him some more. He yelled about the Dursley's, about the beatings, about the lack of food, about the cupboard under the stairs, the padlocks on his cousin's second bedroom. He screamed about Sirius Black and his unending hatred for the one man who should have taken him in and loved him but cast him aside instead. He yelled about finally having a friendship with Draco that he could rely on, trust. He yelled about his heartbreak at reading those words, how they broke him just a little more, how hearing Draco of all people say them broke something he could never dream of fixing. Of how meaningless all those letters of apology were in the face of his whole life of abuse, loneliness, and heartache. Knowing that your soulmate despises you. Of having that pushed in your face, over and over and over again. Of almost being killed because he was supposed to love you!

When he finally ran out of steam, he noticed it had begun raining. He noticed that the other four members of their little team stared at him in horror and stared at Malfoy in disgust. Noticed he was cold, tired, and feeling incredibly alone again, something he hadn't felt for the past four years. But most of all, he noticed that Malfoy had simply hung on to him and let him get it out, had tears streaming down his face. Had guilt, sadness, anger, remorse, flashing through his eyes but never voiced one of them.

“Ok, Harry”. Big grey eyes watched him come down. Watched his control shatter as he crumpled and broke, like he hadn't since that night he needed a calming draught and was wishing for death. It took him two hours to calm down, soaked to the bone from the rain with Malfoy holding him all that time. He didn't really know how the tents were set up, how they got him into one and cleaned up enough to get into a bed, but he knew that Malfoy never left his side. He would hear later that his outburst was a side effect of the spell that hit him, but they had no idea exactly what it did just that it was out of his system now. Neither he nor Malfoy spoke for the next three weeks. They worked, they ate, and they slept, all in silence. Malfoy needed time to digest just how big his words had impacted an already fragile Harry, while Harry needed that time to slowly put himself together again. Unnoticed by both of them, the rest of their team refused to let Harry's abuse go unpunished and sent their memories along with a letter to Madam Bones.

They would only learn of the outcome of the investigation some three months later when they were finished with their current case. Hermione and Viktor had owled him, as Lucius and Narcissa had owled Malfoy. It turned out that what Sirius had done was illegal. He had essentially made a magical vow to take care of Harry and had ignored that vow. He not only lost his job as Head Auror, but was also thrown into Azkaban for three years, not that it made much difference to Harry. He hadn't heard from Sirius since the summer he had spent four days with the man.

The Dursley's, on the other hand, were thrown into muggle prison. Dudley, being a child himself at the time, was essentially in the free and clear, but his parents had (for some inane reason) kept the evidence of how Harry had been treated in their house. Both the cupboard under the stairs and the padlocked second bedroom still had all the evidence the police needed to make an arrest. They hadn't even needed Harry for any part of the trial because Petunia had started screeching about Harry being a 'freak', and 'evil', and how they had to beat 'it' out of him. They were sentenced to twenty-five years and Harry actually had a good laugh about the whole thing. The thought that all these people suddenly cared years after the fact, when he was finally safe and away from everything, really tickled his funny bone.

Malfoy's parents had written to him of their outrage, of their guilt, of their immense sadness about their part in hurting Harry further. The fact that their story was now across the papers world-wide did nothing to endear them to Harry. It felt like another ploy. Because his story really was splashed all over. ‘The Soulmate Who Was Rejected and Tortured’, ‘Soulmate Attempted to Murder Soulmate’, ‘The Broken Soulmate’. It made him sick, made him want to hide, made him pull away from Malfoy all over again. He didn't want to deal with any of this, so he went to the goblins and requested a solo mission, something remote and out of the way. Somewhere it would be hard to find him. So they sent him to the desert, in the middle of sand and dunes, and told him not to come back until he found a tomb of some old paranoid wizard who had a great many items they would love to have.

He left that day and spent the next three months cursing the goblins to the high heavens because when they said 'paranoid' what they forgot to mention was ‘vindictive, secretive, hoarder, experimenter, and potions master’. The challenges were trying, the traps annoying, but the potions and experiments that would randomly try to attack him were getting on his last nerve. He felt like burning the whole lair to the ground and just being rid of the whole escapade.

It was then that Malfoy found him, in the middle of some sort of spider web-like muck cursing everything and everyone under the sun.

“It took me three months to find you.” He chuckled, leaning against the doorway and watching Harry narrow his eyes at him, still trying to get the stuff off of him. “I can't imagine what you would look like if I left you alone any longer.” His smile was brittle and his eyes were hurt, but there was an understanding there that hadn't been there before. It made Harry roll his eyes instead of telling him to go back to where ever he came from and leave him the hell alone. Draco swished him wand and the muck disappeared.

“How did you do that?” Harry asked, indignantly. “I tried everything!”

Malfoy's smile was less brittle when he said “Can't tell you all my secrets, Harry. There's got to be some sort of mystery left between us in our old age.”

“Ulg!” Harry replied, a twitch of the mouth preceding the waving of his arms in an attempt to distract Malfoy from seeing his almost-smile. It was just his bad luck that Malfoy had caught the twitch anyway, but was good enough to say nothing about it, only to feel bolstered by its appearance. Maybe, just maybe, he had a shot after all.

Working together, and mostly in silence, they eventually finished the job some eight months later. The goblins where happy with their findings and let Harry and his partner (Harry had spluttered at that) keep all the experimental notes and some of the more priceless books they had no need of.

Somewhere in the eight months they had been gone, the fervor had died down and the attention shifted off them. Harry had learned that Draco had gotten a lot of abuse thrown his way for his part in Harry's mistreatment. The Malfoy name had fallen from its high perch, but not too far since they all believed soulmates were destined. That didn't mean they weren't being punished. Narcissa was out of favor, no luncheons, no benefits, a real social outcast in the circles that mattered. Lucius had several deals fall apart and his company took a massive hit on the market before he began to pull back from public view. They had sent letters to Draco to pass on to Harry, once again telling him of their regrets and sorrow. He still felt like it was a ploy so he burned them as Malfoy watched. Neither mentioned the letters again.

When Harry checked in with Hermione and Viktor (and little Sofia, wasn't that a surprise) and heard that the media storm had calmed, but wasn't over, he asked them what he should do: face it, or hide. They both told him to hide, just a little while longer. People were fickle and once it all died down, he could return to his normal life. So Harry took another job, this time actually taking Malfoy with him, for a hunt in Alaska. Neither of them were fond of the cold, as it turned out, and more often than not huddled together in one bed despite the roaring fire and the constant heating charms. Both of them swore to never choose anything this cold again.

Harry wasn't sure when their relationship changed, but it happened so gradually and so slowly, he doubted he could ever really pinpoint it. Six months into their Alaska adventure Harry woke up and stared at the blond laying next to him. He had fallen in love. He had fallen in love with the broken and badly put together Draco Malfoy and he hated himself for it. This was the man who had tried to kill him, almost succeeded both times, and now he was falling in love with him? Perhaps it was fate that at the very moment he started to spiral, Draco opened his eyes. He saw Harry watching him and became solemn.

“I know.” He told Harry. “Just don't run again, and I'll give you all the space you need.” Broken eyes, a shattered shell being put back together again. Harry didn't know which one of them was any better than the other at this point, but he realized that Draco would never stop following him, even if it meant that their relationship would never evolve past what they had at the moment. It was a sobering thought. It didn't help his feelings, but it helped him put a name on Draco's: love. Draco loved Harry. It was frightening and terrifying and all he wanted to do was run away. Instead he took a deep breath, gave Draco a nod, and went back to sleep.

For the next two weeks, they hardly spoke, only simple questions related to work that usually had 'yes' or 'no' answers. Two weeks of trying to give a place to what he was feeling. If it was worth the effort to even try. He finally knew he needed help and asked Draco to disappear for a few hours. Draco watched him with suspicious eyes before taking a large breath and nodding, grabbing his things and walking out. Harry wasted no time and promptly grabbed some floo powder to speak to the only two people in the world who could help him sort himself out: Hermione and Viktor.

They were stunned to hear from him, laughed at his being perpetually cold, and sober when they heard he was falling in love with his soulmate.

“Harry,” Hermione said softly after a lengthy silence, “what do you want for your future?”

Harry frowned at her. “What? What's that got to do with anything?”

Viktor shook his head and rolled his eyes and told him to answer the question.

“I want a family. A large family, three, maybe four kids. Marriage. A home. Stability, love, trust, acceptance.” He told them.

“Do you have the possibility of those things with Draco?”

He frowned at that. “I...I don't know. Yes, I suppose. If I let him in, if I choose to trust him again.”

“Will you?”

“Hermione...”

“I know, Harry. I was there, remember? I was there when you cried yourself to sleep, I was there when you wished they had let you die, I _know_. I asked you a long time ago whether or not you would ever open that door for Draco and you said never. Is that still how you feel?”

Harry was crying silently, but shook his head. “No, no I don't. I don't know if I can trust him again, Hermione. I don't know if I can put my trust in him after everything that happened between us, I don't know if I want to go down that road.”

“And you don't have to.” She told him gently. “If you don't want this, you tell him straight and then sort yourself out. You're not responsible for his happiness, just your own. If you can't be happy in a relationship with your soulmate, then get out. Just because they're perfect for you doesn't mean that you ever have to choose him over you.”

It was silly, but it calmed him, knowing he had the choice to leave if he wanted to, knowing he wasn't being pressured by anyone other than himself to give this a try. Once that pressure was gone, once he had a clear enough head, he knew what he wanted to do. So he thanked his two favorite people, told them to watch for an owl that had something special for little Sofia, made plans to visit after this job, and then said his goodbyes.

While he waited for Draco to come back, he used the time to straighten out his thoughts and when he finally heard Draco open their tent, he had sorted out his chaotic mind. He let Draco get settled across from him in their chairs by the fire, let the heat of the fire warm him before turning to look at him.

“You've made a decision.” He stated softly, eyes never wavering. Harry nodded.

“We have a lot of history, Draco, a lot of things that will take a lifetime for me to get over. I don't know if I can ever trust you the way I did before.” Draco nodded, his heart in his throat at hearing his own name finally come out of Harry's mouth. “I don't know if I even want to give you a chance, but I will. I don't owe you anything.” Harry emphasized. “The moment you turn on me, I'm out and I'm never coming back. There are no second chances here, this is it.”

Draco nodded slowly. “I won't lie Harry, I love you and I want to spend forever making it up to you, but I'm not perfect. I can't live my life walking on eggshells around you, it won't work with us. I don't want to talk you out of this, but I need to know you won't leave me in the middle of an argument. That I can trust you to come back when you do leave.”

Harry lowered his eyes, an almost-shame feeling rising in him before he brushed it aside. He nodded. “That's fair to say. If we do this, we go all in, eyes open. We know the bad; know the ugly and the horrible. We know the nice. Maybe we can find the good together?”

It wasn't much of a sentiment, but it was enough of one to build on. They started slow, holding hands and going out on dates, working together on whatever job they happened to be on. Started to give each other pecks on the cheeks, which turned to a peck on the lips, which turned into soft kisses and long kisses. They stopped by Hermione and Viktor's place together, spent a few weeks meeting Sofia and getting yelled at by Hermione for sending an entire box of enchanted snowballs that formed a cute, cold, cuddly bear that broke apart again when you tried to hug it. Viktor loved it because it kept his hyper little two year old girl entertained (and exhausted), but it worried Hermione with how attached she was getting to the damnable things. Draco finally, and surprisingly, managed to calm her down by telling her that all toys broke eventually, and that this was just a lesson Sofia had to take with her in life. Hermione hummed at that and slowly nodded. Viktor and Harry had stared at him in wonder.

It took time, it took work, and sometimes it took everything in both of them to not just call it quits. Sometimes Harry woke in a panic that Draco had turned into Malfoy again and this was all some elaborate scheme. Sometimes Draco woke screaming that Harry couldn't leave him again. Sometimes they slept through the night, and rarely did they dream of happy moments they wished would come true. It would take another year before Harry could confidently say ‘I love you’ without having a panic attack. That same year before Draco could accept this as a truth instead of something that Harry was simply trying out to see how it felt.

It took another six months before they had sex. It took another three weeks after that before they tried again after the disaster that was their first time. Too many emotions, too much history, too much of both of them trying too hard. The second time they decided to just fuck, love could come later. While it was better than the first time, they both agreed they had space for improvement. It made them laugh, made Draco light up and finally relax a little when he heard Harry laughing. It made Harry settle down when he saw Draco lean over and kiss him on the lips like it was the most natural thing in the world. Somehow, in between all the bad and the struggling and the fixing, they had found their balance. Apparently, all they needed was really bad sex. It made them laugh harder, gave them a lightness between them that hadn't been there before, gave them something more to work from.

Their lives would never have the easiness that Hermione had with Viktor, too much had happened for that. Harry never forgot that he didn't owe Draco anything, but he also never forgot that he loved the blond git. Draco never forgot the pain and anguish he had caused Harry, and never forgot that he gave Harry his biggest joy: A family. Severus, being his godfather, had given him a potion he was experimenting with. Within three days of taking it, Draco was pregnant. Harry had fainted upon hearing that, making their children and loved ones laugh years later in the re-telling. They had five children in total: Three boys and two girls.

Harry eventually let Draco's parents into their lives. It was hard to accept them, accept that they only wanted the best for him and their son. It took the birth of his last daughter before he completely let go of those fears. Lucius and Narcissa, for their part, never forgot how far one boy could make them fall. It had been a ploy, the first and second letters, but the third was genuine, as was the desire to see their son happy. It took time and a vested interest before even a start could be made to heal the rifts they had caused. It started with Draco's pregnancy and built until they were confident enough that Harry would accept that their words weren't just pretty thoughts. Nothing came easy for them, and the work they put in to their family meant more to them than anything else they had worked for before. Harry still never forgave the pair and his trust was a brittle thing. They never got back what they had lost the years Harry had spent his summers with them and they had had to learn to be ok with that.

Harry loved Draco, and Draco loved Harry. It would never be enough, just love, but for them it was enough to keep building something that lasted until their dying breaths.

*****

“I don't owe you anything, Draco. Having you in my life is not a necessity, it's a choice.” Harry murmured to him, one night, long before their first child was born.

“Are you choosing me, Harry?” Draco asked him, wondering where the conversation was going.

“I don't need you. Sometimes I wonder if I even like you, but I want you. I want you making me angry at you, want you messing with my perfectly fine systems and re-arranging all my clothing to your liking even though your way makes my head hurt. I just want you. I choose you.”

Draco's breath caught in his lungs. “I did tell you that you were my hobby, Harry.”

Harry snorted, then leaned in and kissed him senseless. When they woke in the morning, their words had changed. Draco's had changed to ‘I choose you’. It made his heart soar and reminded him during the tough times that Harry had chosen him, and they'd have more fights and difficult moments, but Harry would stay because he had chosen Draco, chosen their life together.

Harry's words were a family joke. Beyond the humor of the words themselves, it always made the restless part of Harry's soul calm when he read the words. They were a promise, a threat to always follow, a path to happiness he hadn't been able to see before. They still made him roll his eyes and growl in aggravation, but they were a promise just as his words on Draco were a promise. Forever.

‘You're my hobby, Harry.’

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!


End file.
